


Two Hands

by writingwithmolls



Series: Into the Rose Garden [1]
Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Established Relationship, F/F, First Kiss, Love Confessions, Multi, Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations, Post-Time Skip, they have two hands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-08
Updated: 2020-08-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:33:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25778995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingwithmolls/pseuds/writingwithmolls
Summary: Edelgard and Dorothea share a confession in the dead of the night, only for Byleth to be found alive.Is it possible to love more than one person, or is there a harsh choice left for Edelgard and Dorothea to make regarding their relationship?
Relationships: Dorothea Arnault/Edelgard von Hresvelg, Dorothea Arnault/Edelgard von Hresvelg/My Unit | Byleth, Dorothea Arnault/My Unit | Byleth, Edelgard von Hresvelg/My Unit | Byleth
Series: Into the Rose Garden [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1575940
Comments: 30
Kudos: 102





	Two Hands

Matters of love always weighed heavily on Dorothea’s chest. She had lived half her life knowing she would be lucky to marry someone who she loved, and she was doomed to prioritize stability over comfort.

Edelgard von Hresvelg choosing her was the best thing that could happen.

Dorothea had tried desperately to only live as a friend with her emperor. She cared too much for Edelgard to drag her into her twisted agenda. It was her Edie, however, that taught her that she wasn’t selfish for wanting love  _ and _ protection. And with Edelgard building a new world from the ground up, she was with someone who could protect her. It was everything that she could ever want. Dorothea loved her.

It was why she wanted to tell her.

“There’s something on your mind,” Edelgard said, beating Dorothea to blurting out her confession. They were both buried under their sheets, the covers protecting them from the chill of the dormitories. It was winter and Dorothea was thankful that she didn’t have to sleep alone in her room. Sleep came easier when she was sharing a bed with Edelgard. “Would you like to share?”

Dorothea smiled as Edelgard kissed her neck, giving her a moment to respond. She held her tighter. “I was thinking about the ball.”

“That was nearly five years ago, darling,” Edelgard said with a small laugh. “You danced with me that night. Then again... I believe you danced with half the nobility.”

“Forgive me,” Dorothea felt the laugh rise, even in her nervous energy, “it was difficult to take a chance on the imperial princess.”

“Even an imperial princess who asked you to spend your life with her?” She offered another quick kiss. “I can tell there is more.”

“There’s more,” Dorothea admitted. She listened quietly to the sounds of the room, letting Edelgard’s breathing comfort her. The hoot of an owl outside interrupted the low growl of the wind. Five years and they had returned to the monastery to make it their base. It was central not only strategically, but it was a place they and the others in the Strike Force held close to their heart. “I guess the part that is on my mind is the Goddess Tower… I don’t believe I was ever truthful about my wishes.”

Edelgard didn’t respond, but found her hand under the cover and squeezed it. The warmth reminded Dorothea of that evening, when they stood hand in hand under the starry sky, the tower looming behind them with the unspoken promise of an unbreakable bond. Edelgard had told her that night it was how her parents met—that she believed strongly in the silly rumors that were whispered at the dining hall. Dorothea, herself, never bought into the empty promises of finding her other half, but nonetheless she found herself with her love.

“I had written a letter to another that night,” she whispered, knowing that it all meant nothing in the grander scheme, but still feeling like it was treasonous, “it was… terribly poetic. It was a shot in the dark with someone who would never see me the same way I saw her, but I delivered it anyway.” Dorothea laughed once more, despite herself. “The letter was cheesy beyond belief, but I thought it was my last chance at freedom. If she was to love me back, I think I would have been okay without marrying some rich noble. It turns out she never got my letter, I was able to play it off, but you sounded so  _ sure _ that our meeting that night was something special, so I never spoke up.”

Edelgard hummed, pressing herself closer to Dorothea. “Always the romantic,” she said. “Who was it for?”

“You have to promise not to laugh.”

“I would like to think we have grown from our academy days.”

“It was the professor,” Dorothea said, breathlessly. Edelgard froze at the mention of their dearly beloved, departed friend. Regardless of the half decade that spanned her death, it never felt right or fair. She was by Edelgard’s side after the battle, combing through debris and fallen soldiers, clawing at the hope of their professor’s survival. Byleth’s students never received closure on how she died. “Foolish, right? Perhaps if I had waited, but I was still just another member of the class.”

“She adored you,” Edelgard whispered. “I would always catch her laughing when you told Ferdinand off or tricked Caspar into doing the heavy lifting.”

“Not as much as she admired you,” Dorothea said, shifting so she could comb her fingers through her partner’s hair. “I was always envious of how much you looked like a pair together. Preparing us for battles, both pouring over the maps. Two leaders.”

“I…” Edelgard hesitated, still tense in Dorothea’s arms. “I, too, was hoping to meet Byleth that day at the Goddess Tower. I didn’t have enough faith in myself to write a love letter, however.”

“It wasn’t a  _ love _ letter,” Dorothea insisted, but her cheeks burned and she was grateful for the forgiveness. “A companionship letter?”

“Of course,” Edelgard said, clearly amused despite the sadness that worked its way into her tone that betrayed her teasing. “I loved her, I think.”

“She was hard not to love,” Dorothea offered, feeling at peace that she was not the only one who had felt the attachment. “I loved her as well.”

Their confessions never left the room that night, as winter grew into a warmer spring, and the day of the millennium festival arrived.

* * *

Even with the professor’s warmth beside her, Edelgard could scarcely believe she was alive. The prayers she had whispered to a Goddess she didn’t believe in were answered—the miracle of seeing the professor standing at the tower in the flesh was an image she knew she would carry to the grave.

“It’s you,” she whispered as they walked briskly towards the bridge.

“It’s me…” Byleth said, still looking a little unsteady on her feet. Edelgard could hardly care  _ how _ she came back, only that she wasn’t some apparition that cursed her thoughts. She needed another person.  _ Her person _ who had promised to wait for her on the other side of the bridge as she bid her farewells.

Dorothea was looking over the edge of the bridge, off into the mountains that housed the monastery. She only glanced up after hearing her name called, fondness shifting to a surprised recognition as she gasped.

“Pr-professor?” she stuttered out, not able to keep the smile off her face. “Edie… how?”

“She claims to have been asleep.” Edelgard felt the laughter on her lips. Dorothea didn’t wait for them to cross the bridge, rather she ran to them, meeting the two halfway. Dorothea nearly knocked Byleth over, not slowing as she slammed into the professor, throwing her arms around her.

“Dorothea,” the professor urged, hugging her back and looking to Edelgard, “don’t you cry as well, now.”

“Where  _ were _ you?” Dorothea managed, the tears already trailing down her cheeks as she clung to Byleth. “ _ Five years _ , Professor.”

“I… don’t know,” Byleth said, pulling away ever-so-slightly to wipe the tears from Dorothea’s eyes. Edelgard’s partner looked at her with such adoration, she, herself, felt it well up in her chest. Byleth embraced her, running a hand through Dorothea’s curls.

As Edelgard stood back and watched the scene, she was grateful that the professor was not a ghost after all. Then, she remembered the whispered confessions of the prior winter. The love letter that her partner had written and her own strong feelings that were never addressed.

“Both of you,” Byleth said as she took half a step back, letting Dorothea take her hands, “look gorgeous.”

Edelgard flushed under her gaze, her vibrant eyes regarding both of the women in their gowns. Dorothea was recognizably flustered as well by the compliment, it was rare to render her speechless.

“That’s hardly our biggest concern right now,” Edelgard said. “We must assure your health is stable.”

“Oh, you just  _ have _ to come see the others! They’ve missed you…  _ we’ve _ missed you so much. This feels like a dream.”

Dorothea looped her arm through Byleth’s and began to tug her away. Edelgard walked behind them, still glowing, but the lone image of Dorothea at her desk, penning a letter, sat at the forefront of her thoughts. Dorothea biting her lip as she signed the bottom proudly with hopes of her feelings being reciprocated by another, the candlelight slowly fading into the darkness of night.

* * *

The first week of Byleth’s return was a dream Dorothea had been too scared to entertain. Manuela had kept a close eye on her, delivering the good—yet bewildering—news that the professor was healthy. The strange claim of a poorly-timed slumber still remained her explanation. Dorothea would have claimed it to be a lie if it came from anyone else. Byleth had always been a strange person, so miraculously the claim held water.

Once the excitement faded and their current reality set in, however, some of the magic of the reunion fell away. The Black Eagles Strike Force was overjoyed to have their teacher back, but even that elation came with the price of knowing now was the time to push forward with their attack. More blood would be shed as familiar faces were bound to make their appearances in upcoming battles. Byleth grew sullen at the news, withdrawing deeper into her father’s study in hope of discovering any kind of solution. Edelgard joined and the two became the pair they were always meant to be: the emperor and her teacher.

So Dorothea found herself spending her days lonelier than she had in years. It wasn’t that she was unwelcome, rather she felt increasingly useless at the war councils now that Byleth was there with a new perspective. Her room at the dorms felt empty without Edelgard, and the tears would wait until she was behind the door to be spilled.

Edelgard loved Byleth.

The truth stung in ways she wished it didn’t.

Dorothea would push it to the back of her mind as she smiled at her partner, kissing her goodnight before claiming that she just needed space and dispersing from her room. She had known before that night, but Edelgard had given her the confession while in her embrace, the wind rocking the branches outside. She could never blame the emperor for loving Byleth, but the former songstress knew that she didn’t stand a chance.

It was that thought in particular that drove her to tears every night as the comfort of the day faded away. She couldn’t believe how ironic the situation was… just five years ago she had told the professor how she expected to be thrown aside, how she couldn’t possibly be worthy of someone’s love forever. It was  _ Byleth _ who had told her it wasn’t true, even offered in jest to marry her to cheer her up. It was strangely fitting that she of all people was going to be the one to take Edelgard away from her.

Dorothea stared at herself in the mirror as several small knocks echoed off of the wooden door. She had to admit that she looked heartbroken with the bags under her eyes, her usual jewelry discarded for the day. She was planning on skipping dinner, but the timid voice on the other side of the door called out a quiet, “Are you in there?”

“Hey, Bern,” Dorothea attempted to greet as casually as she could, but she could hear the rasp of crying in her own voice. She had thought too long and hard that afternoon about what to say to Edelgard. Perhaps it had only been two weeks, but those two weeks had left the emperor happier than she had been in half a decade. Dorothea knew there was a way to make this feeling last, and it would be removing herself from the equation. “You should get some rest, you did good at the council today.”

“I… need to talk to you,” Bernadetta managed, but she looked to her side and urged someone else out. Petra joined her at the door and Dorothea had a feeling she was in for an  _ intervention _ . It was strange to be on the receiving end, especially when it was usually her, Petra, Caspar, and Ferdie standing outside of  _ Bern’s _ door begging for her to come out.

“You can be taking your time,” Petra urged their classmate on.

“ _ Well _ ,” Bernadetta began, shoving her hands deeper and deeper into her pockets, “you’ve been spending a lot of time in your room. You haven’t been staying with Edelgard as much… and me and Petra can hear you crying.” She looked to their classmate, who nodded. “This is usual  _ me _ behavior, but this isn’t usual  _ Dorothea _ behavior.”

“We have concern,” Petra added. “Do you have food?”

“I’m not very hungry,” Dorothea admitted. She looked at her two classmates—although, she guessed, they were now her fellow soldiers—and was grateful that they had come to check on her. Bernie now stood above Petra, and the princess, herself, grew more confident with every passing day.

“Then be having conversation with us,” Petra offered, taking Dorothea’s hand. “Alone does not… suit you, Dorothea.”

She allowed herself to be led into Bernadetta’s room, Bernie cleaning up some art supplies so that she would have a place to sit. Petra sat cross-legged on the floor, still letting Bernie take charge of the conversation.

“Is… everything okay? Everything doesn’t seem okay.” Bernie played with her own hands, doing her best to look in the direction of Dorothea.

“Having Byleth back has just been a bit stressful,” she admitted. The scene reminded her of their school days, hanging out in each other’s rooms whenever Bernie would let them in. It was never that Edelgard wasn’t invited, but she lived on a different floor. As heir, she always had so much to do. It was peaceful to sit with Bernie and Petra once more, neither of them judgemental of her situation or emotions.

“Is everything okay between you and Edelgard?”

Dorothea shrugged, not meeting either set of eyes. “Things are… fine.”

There was a hesitation in the next question, both of the girls looking between one another, trying to figure out what the next move could be. After a silent conversation, they seemed to reach an agreement. Dorothea nearly teased them, if not for what they had arrived at.

“I-I don’t want to  _ upset _ you, but,” Bernie winced, “it’s more than obvious to everyone that Edelgard loves Professor.”

“Is that why you are crying?” Petra asked.

“Both of you know me too well.” She groaned, placing her face in her hands. There was a time where no one could see past her facade. They had all just viewed her as an unbreakable woman who shattered the hearts of noblemen around her. Now, Bernadetta and Petra had arrived at the correct conclusion with shocking speed. “I think I’m going to let her see Byleth instead of me,” Dorothea admitted, not daring to look up.

“S-so, Edelgard  _ didn’t _ say she was leaving you?” Bernie asked. “Then everything is good, right?”

She tried to have the same positive attitude, but Dorothea shook her head. “I can’t let her just waste away with me if she could be happier.”

“There is no having of waste,” Petra said with a frown. “Edelgard has much fondness for you.”

“ _ She loves Byleth _ ,” Dorothea said, feeling the argumentative tone weave it’s way into her words. Then, much quieter, almost a whisper, “ _ I _ love Byleth. It would just be best if I stepped away from the situation.”

“Dorothea is having two hands!” Petra said, sitting forward on her knees to hold each of Dorothea’s hands and raise them. Her hands were cold against Petra’s hot skin, being encased by the warmth. “One for Edelgard and one for the professor.”

She laughed despite the tears threatening, squeezing her friend’s hands back. “I don’t believe that’s how it works.”

“Why not?” Bernie asked, hugging her pillow to her chest. “If you love both of them, I don’t see why you can’t just talk about it?”

“If I just leave, Edelgard will be happy—”

“She is having happiness with you,” Petra assured. “You are having two hands, I promise.”

Dorothea wiped the corner of her eyes, not wanting to cry in front of her friends. “Yes, I have two hands. We all do.”

“It has different meaning in Brigid,” Petra paused, looking for the words as she continued to hold Dorothea’s hands. “It does not have translation. Hands are physical,” she squeezed both of her hands, “and there are two. The… saying does not have translation. It is less physical, and more soul. In Brigid we have understanding two lovers hold hands—it is a legend. If your heart has space for more than one, it would be foolish to limit to one hand instead of two? Having the emotions to reach more than one person with your heart,” she summarized. “I am having difficulty explaining… but I have believing you can love more people.”

“I think I understand.” Dorothea nodded. The thoughts swirled in her head, and she grounded herself in Petra’s touch. “Thank you.”

“Y’know, Edelgard really loves you,” Bernie added. “I don’t think that has changed. Neither of us can tell you how your relationship should be… but please don’t forget that you deserve happiness, too. Security  _ and _ happiness.”

“I can’t believe you're the one giving me advice.” Dorothea smiled, looking upwards in hopes of it stopping the tears. Her vision was blurry and she squeezed Petra’s hands. “Bern,  _ I’m _ the one supposed to be protecting  _ you _ .”

“I-I’m sorry,” she stuttered out.

“Both of you are right, thank you,” Dorothea said, a new hope growing slowly but surely within her heart. It felt like she had been given a second chance, an option that didn’t involve her wandering the country, looking for a stuffy nobleman to look after her. “Hugs?”

Even with Bernie’s original objection, she hugged both of her dearest friends tightly, knowing what she had to do.

* * *

Edelgard worried she had driven Dorothea away as she bid goodnight after the council meeting and before they could even eat dinner with one another. She watched her figure retreat with a surprising amount of haste, like the songstress was fleeing from her.

“Edelgard?” Byleth asked next to her, gathering the papers and rearranging the plans for the next few days of instruction. “Is Dorothea okay?”

“She’s been acting strangely,” Edelgard admitted. It was clear her partner had been dodging her, especially when she retreated to her own room to sleep at night. “I was going to give her some space, but I think I have to sit down with her.”

“You are a very thoughtful leader,” Byleth commended, and although Edelgard  _ welcomed _ the praise, it felt wrong given the situation.

“Dorothea and I are partners,” she said the words that should have come up in conversation long before. Each time she attempted to say it to Byleth, images of a love letter fluttered her vision. “I may be the leader of my country, but I am her equal.”

“Co-commanders?” Byleth asked as she gave the papers a final shuffle before standing.

“Lovers,” Edelgard corrected, feeling the heat rising to her cheeks. It wasn’t often that she had to explain to others her relationship. The Strike Force had always known, and her personal business didn’t concern any of her other connections. She felt it was important for Byleth to know. “I don’t just care for those around me as a leader.”

“I didn’t mean to insinuate that,” Byleth said with a nod. “I’m sorry. Please do check on her, and thank you for telling me.”

Edelgard was going to continue the conversation with the professor, when Hubert appeared at her side. “Lady Edelgard, shall I accompany you to your room?”

“If you would excuse me,” she said to Byleth, standing and taking the arm that her retainer had offered. “How did you know I needed an out?”

“I have spent many years reading your expressions,” he said, taking up a steady—but brisk—pace. “You were growing argumentative.”

“Perhaps,” Edelgard lingered on the word. “Has Dorothea said anything to you?”

“She has also been avoiding me.” They passed Ferdinand, who gave both of them a grand hello despite just departing from the same meeting. Hubert shot him one of his best  _ leave Edelgard and I alone _ glares, which warded him away. “Did you two fight?”

“No, nothing like that.”

“Then she and you both have something to speak about,” Hubert said as they rounded a corner. “Lady Edelgard, you tend to keep the matters of your heart closely guarded. While my usual suggestion would be to continue doing so; I placed my trust in Dorothea four years ago. That woman, while…” he dug for the words “... _ invasive _ , has provided positive companionship. If either of you have done anything to upset one another, I recommend resolving the issue.”

“What is your opinion of Byleth?” Edelgard let go of his arm when they reached her door at the dormitory. Hubert was about to speak, but she cut him off, “Not politically. Or strategically. In the same sense of Dorothea is to me.”

Hubert hesitated, the nature of the question dawning upon him. “The professor has always been supportive of you, your past, and your future. While she would hold no favor in my eyes if she was to bring harm to you,” his face softened, “I would not object.”

“Thank you,” she said honestly, the reality of the blessing and her options layed out in front of her. Edelgard felt like she was in the war room, looking at options with casualties and heartbreak laying dormant on both sides, just waiting to strike. “I appreciate your honesty.”

Hubert bowed as she opened her door. “If you need any more advice, don’t hesitate. I believe this is a decision best left to you.”

Edelgard nearly screamed when she closed the door behind herself, falling into the emptiness of the room. She sat down at her desk, glancing at the notes that lay in front of her. She didn’t bother reading the words, rather let her mind race along her heart.

Every day of the past five years was built on weighty decisions, a balancing of pros and cons that left hundreds heartbroken regardless of how many were saved. Hubert had made clear the options that lay out in front of her. The safety of Dorothea’s arms, left with the painful possibilities and what-ifs that had followed them after Byleth’s false death. The strength of Byleth standing next to her… a lonely image of Dorothea broken and hating her for the betrayal. The happy image of Dorothea walking hand in hand with the professor, Edelgard only able to stare at the scene from a distance.

She picked up a pen, desperate to begin drawing out the positives of each situation, enough to weigh the negatives, but she couldn’t bring herself to play with Dorothea’s heart the same way she dealt with leading armies. It felt harsh.

Perhaps  _ she _ was harsh.

She didn’t realize that night had fallen over Garreg Mach until there was a knock at the door, followed by a key being inserted and the door creaking open. Dorothea peeked her head in, a sad smile playing on her lips. “Can we talk?”

“Of course,” Edelgard urged, dropping her pen. Dorothea’s heart wasn’t a siege or march. It was Dorothea, the one she loved. “Have you been feeling unwell?”

“In a sense,” Dorothea said, taking a seat on her bed. Edelgard turned the chair, watching the way she played with the rings on her finger and took hesitant breaths. “You love Byleth.”

The guilt washed over her, as if Dorothea had been listening in on her thoughts. She was seized by the fear of losing her partner, and she realized it was foolish to even consider choosing another over her. Losing Dorothea and her lilting voice, her kind and open heart, her drive to take care and protect herself, her—

“I love Byleth, too.”

Edelgard blinked, making sure she didn’t mishear the words. “The letter.”

“I wrote the letter, but I think it goes deeper than just a silly love letter,” Dorothea admitted. She closed her eyes tight. “I didn’t mean to avoid you, I’m sorry. To be honest, I was jealous of how happy Byleth coming back made you. Which made me feel terrible, because you deserve to be happy. Petra and Bernie finally talked some sense into me and I realized I had to be honest with you.”

“I… don’t want to lose you,” Edelgard managed, the words sticking painfully in her throat. “You love her, but,” an image of Dorothea and Byleth, leaving her alone once more, “I…” She was unable to speak.

“No,  _ no _ , Edie, nothing like that.” Dorothea swiped at the air, as if dismissing the thought entirely. “Please, darling, you will never lose me. Petra suggested that we open our relationship to Byleth.” Edelgard furrowed her brows in confusion, but allowed Dorothea to find the words. “We can both confess to her, together. If she’s interested, then the three of us could be lovers… equal partners. Apparently it’s not a cultural taboo in Brigid, but frankly, anything you are doing in Fódlan is divorcing tradition. If we both feel so strongly for Byleth, I don’t think there’s a reason to bury those feelings.  _ I’m rambling and not letting you speak _ ,” Dorothea finished.

“Both of us?” Edelgard questioned, feeling foolish for taking her own solutions to the extremes. “I can tell that Byleth adores you… but I doubt she cares for me romantically.”

Dorothea laughed, stress evident in her tone, but a burst of energy nonetheless. “And to me, she is in love with you and would never glance in my direction. We are surprisingly predictable in regards to selling ourselves short.”

“Only in romantic matters,” Edelgard assured, remembering their own confessions after a battle that nearly claimed Dorothea’s life. It was only the scare that allowed Edelgard to speak freely of her feelings, the lingering regret of never telling Byleth. “It feels strange to even consider confessing to another.”

Dorothea nodded. “It makes me feel jittery.” She closed and opened her fists, extending her fingers. Edelgard thought she looked beautiful, even with puffy eyes and messy hair. Dorothea had a terrible trail of heartbroken men and a habit of devaluing herself when they were both students. Now, she stood as the most honest woman Edelgard had ever met. She loved with her entire heart, Edelgard would be foolish to believe she wouldn’t continue to do the same if there was a third.

“We should tell her,” she said, watching Dorothea’s eyes shine. “It’s a mutual desire, after all. No losing side.”

“Oh, Edie.” Dorothea looked at her and smiled, nearly too radiant.

“I love you,” Edelgard said, motioning her near. Dorothea stood, crossing the room and climbing into her lap, a touch Edelgard had been aching for. “Talking… helped. I’m sorry for not asking you sooner.”

“I avoided the situation entirely,” Dorothea said, pressing their foreheads together as her fingers tangled in Edelgard’s hair. “I love you.”

Edelgard’s heart warmed when their lips met, a solution in sight and in reach.

* * *

Byleth leaned in her chair, tipping it backwards as it balanced precariously on the back two legs. Ferdinand’s words echoing in her head, about how he was determined to finally confess to his classmate after the war was over. He didn’t say who it was, but he had blushed like a schoolgirl when she mentioned Hubert in passing.

She didn’t know why her body wouldn’t settle. Her feet slipped and she nearly toppled backwards in her chair, but she threw her weight forward and avoided the accident. Her pulse quickened, the same swift beat it had taken when Edelgard had said the word “lovers.”

“Lovers, huh?” she asked no one in particular, her father’s empty study refusing to answer. Byleth played with two rings between her fingers, passing them from hand to hand and warming the metal. One had been given to her by her father, telling her it was reserved for someone she loved as much as he had loved the mother she never met. The other ring was given to her before his burial, the matching one he wore on his own finger.

Byleth assumed it was for her to wear one day, but she wasn’t well-versed in marriage or its customs. Her first thought was to ask Dorothea, but she knew there would be endless teasing—not that she minded. The songstress had grown, but her consistent banter continued through the war, even if it was more subdued. Byleth would hate to see it leave; the upturn in her voice as she teased out her words and placed a soft hand on Byleth’s arm.

Lovers.

Byleth shook her head, leaning back in her chair once more, despite the near brush with disaster. Even without a heartbeat, the sensation of falling reminded her that she was living, the quickening pulse proof of blood flowing through her veins. The same sensation that Edelgard and Dorothea brought. Undeniable evidence that she was alive.

A knock at the door of the study startled her, and she slammed the chair back to the ground. “Come in?” She placed each of the rings on her desk, not even able to recall what papers were in front of her.

“Good evening, Professor,” Dorothea greeted in her musical, cooing voice.

“Byleth,” she corrected. “Byleth is fine, Dorothea.”

Edelgard chuckled, following behind. “Careful what you wish for, Byleth. Dorothea is looking for excuses to call you by her pet names.”

It didn’t sound like a bad deal, but Byleth pouted in hopes of keeping the happy expression on the emperor’s face. She looked to be in better spirits than the afternoon, which was enough. Edelgard was a hard worker, but she deserved rest.

“If you have a moment, can we discuss personal matters?” Dorothea asked.

“Always,” Byleth said, moving from behind her desk to sit with them on the couches in the captain’s quarters. She could remember the first weeks of school, collapsing at the end of each day to her father chuckling at her exhaustion. “What is on your minds?”

“Well,” Dorothea started, looking to Edelgard and taking her hand, “as Edelgard let you know, we are partners. And…  _ Goddess _ this is difficult.” Dorothea hesitated, the blush on her cheeks spreading. Byleth thought it made her look beautiful, reminded of Ferdinand and his own romantic feelings.

“We both care deeply for you, Professor—Byleth,” Edelgard said, authority lingering in her tone. She always spoke so steadily when the time called for confidence. Byleth was so distracted, she nearly missed what Edelgard was saying. “If you would have us, we would love to be your partners. Both of us.”

Byleth felt the sensation of falling once more, the feeling of life buzzing within her.

“You could take time to consider,” Dorothea picked up, “but we have both loved you for a long time. I couldn’t bear losing you again before I could tell you, and neither could Edie.”

_ Love _ . The sensation akin to falling. To feeling alive.

Byleth was never one to  _ understand _ her own emotions, but she recognized the excitement that grew at the prospect of standing with the two women. The overwhelming feelings of respect and fondness she could feel in her heart when she saw Dorothea and Edelgard leading their people.

“Yes,” Byleth said, before the rest of her body could react to the jump she had taken. “I… don’t know much about how things like this work,” she eyed the two rings sitting with one another on the desk, “but… I’m willing to try.”

“Formal as always,” Edelgard said, but now her cheeks were flushed pink to match Dorothea’s. Byleth wondered if she looked the same—she did feel the heat as it rose to her face. “Then again, we did stage this like yet another council meeting.”

Dorothea laughed. “Too engrossed in the war, unfortunately.” She stood, taking Byleth’s hand. “Our Edie will need to get used to more gentle touches before kissing, but can I kiss you, Byleth?”

“If you wish,” Byleth whispered, suddenly dizzy at even the  _ thought _ of Dorothea doing such a thing. Then, her lips were on hers in a quick motion, and Byleth feared she wouldn’t live long if every little thing both of the women did made her stop thinking.

Dorothea broke away from her and immediately brought her lips to Edelgard’s. “From our love.”

Byleth laughed despite herself, catching both of their attention. “I have to be the luckiest woman.”

Edelgard kissed her knuckles gently, Byleth’s heart soaring in a way that felt more real than the fall ever did.

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to the Fodlan Olympics sever for all the affirming two-handed puns, Justine for deciding to give two hands lore, and my poor writing club for listening to me read this for the past... three weeks.
> 
> Thank you for reading! My name is Molls and I write (mostly) sapphic polyam content!
> 
> If you enjoyed please consider following [my fandom twitter](https://twitter.com/archivewithmoll) and [my personal twitter](https://twitter.com/mollyswiencki) where I write sapphic polyam novels!
> 
> thank you for the support <3


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